So as I might have mentioned, I'm 23 years old. I'm living in my own home relatively far away from all my family and friends. I have my boyfriend and my two dogs. We're not exactly rich. I work part-time from home (and am trying to get more into freelancing). He works full-time from an office.
So when stuff breaks in the house, it's up to us to fix it.
When it first started to get cold, we realized that our shower temperature left a lot to be desired. But we knew there was a temperature gauge in the shower itself. So, I lugged the tool bag upstairs and settled down on the floor and started looking up YouTube tutorials. It took me a while to get the shower handle disassembled, but once I did, that's when things got really confusing. I found the gauge and just could not get it to move. I tried for about half an hour, then went downstairs to take a breather and distance myself from it. My boyfriend went upstairs and took a crack at it, then I tried again. We just couldn't get it to work. I felt defeated. I didn't want to have to put it back together in shame. But I did.
I ended up calling a local plumber and I have a really nice phone voice, I sound sweet and a little pathetic. I played that up a lot. So for only the price of a plate of chocolate chip cookies (homemade, of course), two plumbers came out here to fix it for us. They took apart out shower handle and told us that we couldn't turn it because it was all the way hot. It couldn't go hotter. But they were here anyway so they offered to go down to the basement to check out our hot water tank (definitely something I would have been capable of doing, if I had thought of it). But now our showers are delightfully hot.
We got lucky with that.
Recently, I was trying to wash our king-size blanket. Last time I tried, I flooded the kitchen. This time, I was prepared. I put it on a delicate cycle and watched it all the way through. I stopped the machine when water started flooding everywhere and threw down the towels I had ready. I scooped some water out of the drum and let it go again. It finished its cycle, but barely. I could smell burnt rubber and it was squeaking something awful.
I called my mom about the problem. She brought up the fact that I had recently lost one of my hand towels (absolutely adorable little towels, aquamarine with a royal blue whale on them) and about ten socks. She three-way called my step-father and he told me that I had to open up the washer or it would break immediately. I panicked. I did what they said, with the help of lots of YouTube tutorials. It turned out everything was fine on the inside and what I did was completely unnecessary. (Recently I found the missing towel behind the dryer, but no word on the socks yet.) But when it came to putting it back together, I couldn't put the front panel in at the proper angle. It looked like I needed to take down the folding door that hid our laundry area. My best friend assured me that she had done that particular task and I could definitely handle it. But I panicked.
The though of what my kitchen would look like with tools scattered everywhere, screws in little cups on the countertop, a whole door just laid on the floor, and still no guarantee I could get the front panel back on.... It was not something I could deal with. It was too reminiscent of "projects" from my childhood home that never got finished. I couldn't stand that. I had definitely made a mess of the kitchen, but taking the door off was too much. I would have gone too far with the project and I wouldn't be able to put it back.
My boyfriend came home for lunch. I closed the folding door and hid away the mess. He calmed me down a lot. I stopped panicking. After lunch I moved the washing machine so I could put the front panel on at a better angle. I didn't have to take off the door. I was overjoyed.
Since then, I have discovered that I had moved the washing machine off of its, like, equalizing pieces so when it does its spin cycle it shakes crazily, moves all about the space, knocking stuff over, and making a huge racket. I haven't done laundry since Monday. Tonight, my boyfriend will come home and we will fix this problem together. I know we can.
And there's one last thing that's broken.
I cracked our brand-new, 55" 4k TV. I was stupid and careless and should have known better. I cried all afternoon when I realized what I had done. I have found the most wonderful independent contractor who will help us out and get it fixed. I was so unbelievably lucky.
I have never been able to fix a project in the house by myself. I hate that. But I do love that I don't leave unfinished projects disassembled everywhere. I could not handle that. Even if I can't complete what I want to do, I have to put everything back in order. I have to retain my sanity in some small ways.
Hopefully, in a week everything will be fixed. Everything will work fine again.
And then all I will have to worry about is our upcoming visit to my childhood home.
So when stuff breaks in the house, it's up to us to fix it.
When it first started to get cold, we realized that our shower temperature left a lot to be desired. But we knew there was a temperature gauge in the shower itself. So, I lugged the tool bag upstairs and settled down on the floor and started looking up YouTube tutorials. It took me a while to get the shower handle disassembled, but once I did, that's when things got really confusing. I found the gauge and just could not get it to move. I tried for about half an hour, then went downstairs to take a breather and distance myself from it. My boyfriend went upstairs and took a crack at it, then I tried again. We just couldn't get it to work. I felt defeated. I didn't want to have to put it back together in shame. But I did.
I ended up calling a local plumber and I have a really nice phone voice, I sound sweet and a little pathetic. I played that up a lot. So for only the price of a plate of chocolate chip cookies (homemade, of course), two plumbers came out here to fix it for us. They took apart out shower handle and told us that we couldn't turn it because it was all the way hot. It couldn't go hotter. But they were here anyway so they offered to go down to the basement to check out our hot water tank (definitely something I would have been capable of doing, if I had thought of it). But now our showers are delightfully hot.
We got lucky with that.
Recently, I was trying to wash our king-size blanket. Last time I tried, I flooded the kitchen. This time, I was prepared. I put it on a delicate cycle and watched it all the way through. I stopped the machine when water started flooding everywhere and threw down the towels I had ready. I scooped some water out of the drum and let it go again. It finished its cycle, but barely. I could smell burnt rubber and it was squeaking something awful.
I called my mom about the problem. She brought up the fact that I had recently lost one of my hand towels (absolutely adorable little towels, aquamarine with a royal blue whale on them) and about ten socks. She three-way called my step-father and he told me that I had to open up the washer or it would break immediately. I panicked. I did what they said, with the help of lots of YouTube tutorials. It turned out everything was fine on the inside and what I did was completely unnecessary. (Recently I found the missing towel behind the dryer, but no word on the socks yet.) But when it came to putting it back together, I couldn't put the front panel in at the proper angle. It looked like I needed to take down the folding door that hid our laundry area. My best friend assured me that she had done that particular task and I could definitely handle it. But I panicked.
The though of what my kitchen would look like with tools scattered everywhere, screws in little cups on the countertop, a whole door just laid on the floor, and still no guarantee I could get the front panel back on.... It was not something I could deal with. It was too reminiscent of "projects" from my childhood home that never got finished. I couldn't stand that. I had definitely made a mess of the kitchen, but taking the door off was too much. I would have gone too far with the project and I wouldn't be able to put it back.
My boyfriend came home for lunch. I closed the folding door and hid away the mess. He calmed me down a lot. I stopped panicking. After lunch I moved the washing machine so I could put the front panel on at a better angle. I didn't have to take off the door. I was overjoyed.
Since then, I have discovered that I had moved the washing machine off of its, like, equalizing pieces so when it does its spin cycle it shakes crazily, moves all about the space, knocking stuff over, and making a huge racket. I haven't done laundry since Monday. Tonight, my boyfriend will come home and we will fix this problem together. I know we can.
And there's one last thing that's broken.
I cracked our brand-new, 55" 4k TV. I was stupid and careless and should have known better. I cried all afternoon when I realized what I had done. I have found the most wonderful independent contractor who will help us out and get it fixed. I was so unbelievably lucky.
I have never been able to fix a project in the house by myself. I hate that. But I do love that I don't leave unfinished projects disassembled everywhere. I could not handle that. Even if I can't complete what I want to do, I have to put everything back in order. I have to retain my sanity in some small ways.
Hopefully, in a week everything will be fixed. Everything will work fine again.
And then all I will have to worry about is our upcoming visit to my childhood home.
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